


Elementary, My Dear Watson

by alecjbi (orphan_account)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternative Universe - FBI, Angst, Chicago (City), Detectives, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, Getting to Know Each Other, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mild Gore, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2018-12-30 17:41:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12113871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/alecjbi
Summary: "You said on the first day that we spoke that you would never work with me again, am I correct?"Jesse simply shrugged, looking out over the city. The streets were busier than ever at night, taxis painting the maze of paved roads. A few months ago, it was normal. Now... now, Jesse couldn't look at the streets knowing someone was walking among them, killing them off one by one. Cold-blooded, and showing no signs of stopping. A typical serial killer... until now.Someone that was obliterating lives. Someone that was draining the light out of a city that was once so alive."Lotta stuff has changed," Jesse muttered, turning back to Hanzo. He frowned, looking at the streets below them."I suppose you are right."





	1. Pilot

**Author's Note:**

> alternately titled: when you watch too much x files but can't write supernatural stuff for shit 
> 
> woop woop another ow fic! i've been obsessed with bmc lately but had to go back to my roots. this is gonna be my main project along with fallen empires so,,, slow updates for everything. i'm sorry, school sucks and i constantly have new ideas!! in somewhat related news, i'm looking for a beta reader (i really need one, after i proofread it once i'm done and a bunch of errors get put in, and i need advice from someone before i post stuff) so email me at alecjbi@gmail.com if interested!! you'd only be reading the ow fics i have, and you get sneak peaks at stuff i'm working on so pretty darn cool ig?? 
> 
> tumbles: alecjb.tumblr.com  
> tweeters: twitter.com/diiffindo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternately titled: when you watch too much x files but can't write supernatural stuff for shit 
> 
> woop woop another ow fic! i've been obsessed with bmc lately but had to go back to my roots. this is gonna be my main project along with fallen empires so,,, slow updates for everything. i'm sorry, school sucks and i constantly have new ideas!! in somewhat related news, i'm looking for a beta reader (i really need one, after i proofread it once i'm done and a bunch of errors get put in, and i need advice from someone before i post stuff) so email me at alecjbi@gmail.com if interested!! you'd only be reading the ow fics i have, and you get sneak peaks at stuff i'm working on so pretty darn cool ig?? 
> 
> tumbles: alecjb.tumblr.com  
> tweeters: twitter.com/diiffindo

"Hanzo Shimada, FBI."

"I don't have all day, so say whatever y' need t' say and get outta my office." 

"I'm sorry, Detective McCree, but I am afraid this conversation will take awhile."

Jesse sighed and looked up from his computer, placing his head in his hand. Due to a crime wave throughout the detective's district, the homicide department of Chicago PD was working overtime. Several discarded mugs sat on Jesse's desk, leaving coffee rings on paperwork that was due days ago. The last thing Jesse McCree needed was  _another_ FBI agent knocking at his door, but if it meant lifting his caseload, Jesse might just be okay with it. 

The FBI agent standing above him looked just like the typical ones he saw walking in and out of Morrison's office. Stern face, well-groomed, and built like nobody's business. This one spoke with a slight accent, something foreign. The agent- Detective Hanzo Shimada, as his badge read- was short and altogether unintimidating if it weren't for the tattoo snaking somewhere beneath his suit and the look in his eyes that made Jesse think he didn't care about his own death. Jesse straightened up and motioned to the chair in front of his desk. 

"So, what're you doin' seein' the homicide department today?" Jesse asked while straightening the papers on his desk in an attempt to look organized. Detective Shimada's cold eyes followed his hands, but the detective himself said nothing. "Haven't seen one of y' in awhile, don't y' usually see Commander Morrison?"

Detective Shimada paused, a bit of nervousness seemingly slipping out under his cold exterior. "This subject is more... sensitive... than most. Morrison knows that I am here, but he does not know the nature of my visit." 

Jesse cocked his head. "What do y' mean?"

Detective Shimada shifted in his chair, glancing at the ceiling before locking eyes with Jesse. The detective had run-ins with countless FBI agents, they were all the same: take an exciting case, solve it, then leave. They all had the same serious demeanor, same expression that could never be read. Hanzo Shimada was no exception. 

"You have had quite the influx of cases lately, if I am not mistaken?" Jesse nodded, gesturing to the stack of files on his desk with a frown. "The FBI has reason to believe that they are all connected."

Jesse sat, staring at the detective in front of him. His mouth hung open slightly, gazing at the man in front of him with complete disbelief. Perhaps he wasn't like the other agents. Perhaps this one was completely idiotic. 

"So, you're tellin' me," Jesse said, pulling the stack of files in front of him. He started leafing through them, being sure to have Hanzo see them. "You're tellin' me that these fifty cases are connected. We're talkin' about manslaughter, different weapons, murders, victims with absolutely no connections, hell, some of these aren't even in my jurisdiction!" Jesse flung his hands up, papers flying around him. "There's no possible way all of these are connected." 

Detective Shimada sighed, but did not break eye contact. "Now, I know it sounds absurd-"

"Oh, really?" The detective's gaze somehow got colder. 

"I know it sounds absurd, but, yes, we believe these are all connected. In fact, we have reason to believe that these were all done by the same person."

Despite himself, Jesse barked out a laugh. "Now, Detective, I've heard some far-fetched things in m'day, but nothin' as  _absurd_ as fifty killings done by the same person."

The detective shrugged, reaching into his briefcase to pull out an unmistakable manila folder. "The FBI has decided to involve local detectives to assist us. I am in charge of the case, so you and I will be working closely within the following months."

Jesse rubbed his hands over his face, burying his fingers in his hair. "You've got to be fuckin' kidding me."

"I am afraid I am not. Please look over the file I have given you, and instruct all your agents to leave these fifty cases open."

"I'll work wit' you on this, but don't ever expect my help on anythin' else. God help me if I willingly work on a case with you again."

"Detective McCree, I am not happy about this situation either." Jesse snorted at the blank expression the detective displayed. "This needs to be investigated. It just so happens that we will be working together, so we will simply have to learn to cope." 

With that, Detective Shimada stood up and curtly walked out of the room, something metal clicking as he walked. In and out, leaving Jesse to do most of the work while the FBI took the credit. Grabbing a dirty mug and the file folder, Jesse stood up, following a familiar path to the break room in order to start preparing for this case. 

It was going to be a long couple of months. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW I HAVE LIKE 5 OTHER FICS IM WORKING ON BUT I HAD AN IDEA AND A VERY IMPULSIVE PERSONALITY SO THIS HAPPENED. THIS IS A PROBLEM
> 
> ahH but fallen empires and the trans jesse series will be continued once i get ideas for it (i'm currently having a major bout of writer's block with trans jesse like i have no fucking idea how to write the next installment. i might start taking prompts??) 
> 
> chapters are named after x files eps, and other chapters will be longer, this is just the prologue (haha pilot get it) this is heavily inspired by bbc's sherlock (peep the title, and expect a "not in my jurisdiction" line somewhere in here) and peep the tags, shit is gonna go down and FAST


	2. A Study In Pink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy!! tell me what you think in the comments and leave a kudos if you feel so inclined :) if you noticed, this is gonna be a lot shorter than fallen empires bc it's only gonna be 10 chapters, but, trust me, there's a lot packed into them.
> 
> tumbles: alecjb.tumblr.com  
> tweeters: twitter.com/diiffindo  
> also email me at alecjbi@gmail.com if you're interested in being a beta reader for me?

Jesse tipped his hat to the bubbly receptionist as he walked into his office. She smiled back, waving enthusiastically as an invitation to come over. Glancing at the ever-growing pile of paperwork on his desk, Jesse threw his breifcase on a chair and walked over to the front desk.

Lena, cheerful as ever, nearly shot out of her chair as Jesse approached. A contagious smile lit up her face as she leaned her head in her hands. The receptionist had moved from London to Chicago with her girlfriend a few years ago, and Jesse had immediately befriended her. Although, with such a exuberant personality like that, it was hard to stay away.

"How's the case going, love?" Lena asked, her accent still thick even after living in Chicago for years. It was one of the most refreshing things about the Chicago police department. "That Shimada still on your tail?"

"On my ass is more like it," Jesse groaned, taking a mint from the bowl on Lena's desk. "There's no damn way that these cases are connected, but he's still makin' my department investigate every one of them."

"Even the suicide?" Jesse was slightly surprised that Lena could remember it. A few weeks ago, Jesse had noticed a suicide in his caseload. He had mentioned it offhandedly in a conversation with the receptionist after Detective Shimada had insisted it was related. Jesse chuckled and unwrapped the plastic around the mint.

"Yep, even the suicide," Jesse confirmed, popping the mint into his mouth. 

Lena nodded, giving Jesse a sympathetic look. "You get going on your work, I'll get you some coffee, love," she said, standing on her tiptoes to pat Jesse on the shoulder. Jesse smiled and leaned forward to assist the receptionist. 

"Black, two creams-"

"One sugar," Lena finished, grinning at the man towering over her. "I've been getting you coffee for years, love."

"And I thank you for it every day," Jesse bantered, smiling and grabbing another mint from the always-full bowl on Lena's desk. He tipped his hat to the receptionist and walked back to his desk, hearing Lena call behind him:

"Detective Shimada's coming over today!" Jesse groaned inwardly, hoping Lena would make his coffee stronger than usual. "Maybe you should get to know him!"

"Not happenin'!" He threw the response over his shoulder, the smile on his face falling as his eyes met the large stack of papers on his desk. Sitting at his chair, Jesse picked up the first folder, reading over a case he had read hundreds of times. He hardly noticed when the FBI agent that was all too familiar knocked on his door.

"We're knockin' now?" Jesse said, hearing a chair scrape as Detective Shimada sat down. "From what I remember, you usually just barge on in here." Jesse closed the file he was skimming through and directed his gaze to the agent. He hadn't changed in the month that Jesse had been working with him, spare for more pronounced bags under his eyes. Jesse couldn't blame him.

"I suppose that I should show some curtosey, seeing as we have been working together for a month now." Detective Shimada leafed through his breifcase as he spoke, a habit that Jesse had picked up on within the first week they were working together.

"And yet we haven't gotten anywhere," Jesse muttered, itching for a cigar. Morrison had been berating him for smoking at work, yet after a month with no progress, Jesse was starting not to give a damn.

"We will find something," Detective Shimada said, resting his head in his hand in an uncharacteristic casual display. "I have a feeling."

Jesse cocked his eyebrows but remained silent. The detective parted the stack of papers in the middle, putting the top half in front of Hanzo. Accoustomed to this, the detective bit the end of his pen and opened the first file. "What are we looking for today? Location?"

"And how someone could commit four murders at the same time," Jesse muttered, pulling the whiteboard next to his desk out. It was filled with pictures, lines snaking throughout the board, possible connections color-coded in a system only the two detectives understood. Fifty pictures of victims were squeezed onto one board, becoming more and more chaotic by the day. Jesse and Lena joked that it was starting to look like a poorly-funded murder mystery show. Picking up a marker and popping the cap onto the floor, Jesse faced the board, eyes following the lines that decorated it for what seemed like the thousandth time that month. 

"So, what if the suicide victim committed all these crimes?" Jesse said, throwing the first idea he had out to Detective Shimada. It had nearly become a game- Jesse thinking of ridiculous theories and Hanzo rejecting them, ruling out suspects and possibilities instead of proving them. Jesse denied that it was a game or anything remotely near to fun when Lena mentioned it.

"No, most were different weapons. Plus the John Doe," the detective said, glancing up at the man whose fingerprints had been sanded off among other things, "wasn't near the suicide and those three murders that happened at the same time. Millennium Park versus West Chicago avenue," he said, spinning his chair to face the board and leaning back. Throughout the month that Detective Shimada had been walking in and out of Jesse's office, he had seemingly become more and more casual. Still uptight and reserved, so when Hanzo once put his feet on Jesse's desk, Jesse was wide-eyed in shock. 

"Damn." 

* * *

"I think that's enough for tonight," Detective Shimada said, throwing a case file on the desk among the scatter folders, pens, and coffee cups. The orange glare of streetlights streamed into Jesse's office, illuminating the dark streets below. The lights told the two detectives that another day of work was done, another day of no progress and staring at a whiteboard for countless hours. Jesse rubbed his eyes, his body already begging to go to sleep. Although Jesse doubted he would be able to get any slumber tonight, due to the millions of theories buzzing around in his head, slipping in and out at random. 

"Hey, uh..." A voice called out behind Jesse, shy and quiet. The detecive turned around, only to find Detective Shimada, face flushed. "I was wondering, would you like to go to dinner tomorrow?"

Jesse cocked his eyebrows, earning a turned head from the man in front of him. "Like... a date?"

Hanzo's eyes widened and he shook his head roughly. "No, no... my friends Améile and Gérard are having a small outing, and asked that I bring someone. Apparenly my brother didn't count." The edges of his mouth perked up slightly. Jesse stood, shellshocked by the sudden change in demeanor by his coworker. 

The detective opened his mouth, the words somehow falling out. "Yeah... of course."

"You don't have to, I figured it would just be nice to get together, since we've been working-"

"Yeah, it's no problem," Jesse confirmed, waving his hands. On any other day, Jesse would've turned the offer down in a heartbeat. He wasn't quite sure what it was, the change in attitude from his peer or Jesse's need to get home and sleep. Whatever it was, it had just caused Jesse to go to dinner with four strangers.

_Damn it._

The corners of Hanzo's mouth seemingly fought to curl up even more as the agent dug a hand into his pocket. He pulled out what Jesse immediately recognized as a burner phone. His heartrate picked up despite himself, pounding against his ribs as pushed the irrational fears of _why_ Hanzo had a burner phone on him. Yet, the detective in front of him raised his eyebrows in realization.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Hanzo said steadily. Jesse noticed that he had taken the time to recompose himself. The shy, unsure person he had met just a minute ago was replaced with the coldhearted FBI agent Jesse had grown accustomed to. "I always carry around a burner phone. In case something comes up, I do not wish to be tracked." He spoke matter-of-factly, and Jesse simply nodded. "Anyways, I need your number. I can send arrangements." 

The detective told him, and Hanzo pocketed the phone while heading towards the door. Right before he stepped over the threshold the agent stopped, turning over his shoulder and smiling slightly at Jesse. "See you tomorrow."

Then, he sauntered out of the room, leaving Jesse to wonder what the hell just happened.

The next day proved to be unproductive- any work Jesse tried to achieve was hindered by the thought of Hanzo. The times that the detective thought of the FBI agent were met with disdain and a audible groan, yet this time there was... something else. Not quite attraction. More like... interest.

Yes, interest. That is what Jesse would tell himself each time that man hijacked his train of thought.

In reality, Jesse would be lying to say that Hanzo was not good-looking. The slim nose, strong jaw, and piercing eyes would attract anyone. Hanzo even sported half a shaved head and piercings, something that Jesse would not expect from an FBI agent, even if he was only twenty-five. Sure, the man was attractive, but Jesse had work to get done, and would not let the man he'd been seeing walk into his office for a month cloud his judgement.

The day came and went, and Jesse soon found himself in front of an upscale restaurant downtown. It was only a few blocks away from the station, so the detective walked. As he arrived, he found Hanzo standing outside of the doors, idly smoking a cigarette. 

His hair was pulled back and he donned a very skinny black pair of jeans and bomber jacket decorated with pins. If Jesse didn't work with him- or hate him, for that matter- he would've stared at his ass. Hit on him, even. 

Hanzo waved to him as he approached, flicking his cigarette on the sidewalk and crushing it with his foot. Jesse swore he could even spot a smile forming on the FBI agent's face. 

"Well, don't you look all relaxed for once," Jesse said, motioning to Hanzo's jacket. Upon closer look, there was a pin of Japan's flag among other symbols he did not understand. 

"It was my day off," he explained, shrugging slightly. "This place isn't as fancy as it looks, the owners and patrons don't really care how you look. Amélie just has a taste for dramatics." Hanzo's eyes seemed to light up as Jesse smiled. "My brother is already inside, he's been begging to meet you."

"Aw, you told him about me?" Jesse said, bumping playfully into Hanzo, and frowning as Hanzo jolted away at the contact.

"How could I not? Your incessant theories are hard to forget." 

Jesse  _hmpfed,_ following Hanzo to their table. As he approached he saw a man who stuck out like a sore thumb. Bright hair and bright eyes decorated a heavily scarred face. The detective swore that he could see something metal underneath his sleeve. As they arrived at the table, he reached out his hand, starting to introduce himself before the brother spoke.

"There's two," Genji said as he stood up to shake Jesse's hand. He was even more confusing up close, thick scars decorating one side of his face, green hair sticking straight up, and what looked and felt like a metal arm grasping Jesse's hand.

"Two what now?" Jesse asked, willing himself not to pull away.

"Two prosthetics, or two limbs left, depending on how you look at it. They're also fully functional," he said, demonstrating by wiggling the fingers of his metal arm. He seemed to notice Jesse's wandering gaze. "And these-" he motioned to the scars on his left cheek- "are burn scars. Hanzo here set me on fire and left me to die when we were younger."

Jesse snapped his head towards Hanzo who had his head in his hands, a smile peeking out beneath the cover. "It was an accident, Genji. I was seven."

"And apparently our parents hadn't given you a fire safety lesson and taught you not to set fire to your baby brother's hair," Genji said, smirking at his older brother and punching him playfully in the arm. 

"Genji!" Hanzo groaned, his body now racking with laughter. Jesse couldn't help but laugh as well. He had met an entirely different Hanzo, one other than his usual stoic office demeanor. Possibly even a fun side. 

"Now, Genji, don't embarrass your brother on his first date with this fine young man," a voice said above him. Hanzo, who had been laughing uncontrollably just a minute ago went stock still, a blush spreading over him. 

"You're embarrassing him now!" Genji said, motioning to a mortified Hanzo before standing up and gathering the body attached to the voice in a rib-crushing hug. She was tall, slim, and quite beautiful. She spoke with an accent, something French. Her hair was tied up in a elegant bun and dressed in a black dress and expensive-looking pearls. Jesse tugged nervously at his tie, suddenly feeling underdressed. 

"And you are?" the woman said, turning her attention to Jesse. Her eyes dug into Jesse, sharp and quick.

"Jesse McCree," he answered, standing up and extending his hand.

"Amélie Lacroix," she answered, taking his hand and kissing on either side of his cheek. "My husband Gérard should be arriving any moment now. I hope so, otherwise I will have to give the funeral home a strongly worded email." She took a seat next to Genji, smiling slightly at the dumbfounded look on Jesse's face. 

"Don't worry about her," Hanzo said, shooting a scathing look in Amélie's direction before turning to Jesse. "She has an odd sense of humor. Always jokes about killing her husband."

"Well, isn't that concerning," Jesse muttered, being sure to shoot Hanzo a reassuring smile as his eyebrows furrowed. He would get used to this... uncomfortable situation. He always did.

As the night went on and Gérard arrived, fully alive, Jesse did start to warm up to the four around him. While Amélie did scare him slightly, he found himself laughing at Hanzo and Genji's jokes, fully engaged in the conversation. Maybe it was the atmosphere, possibly the fact that Jesse had one too many glasses of wines. Whatever it was, he was starting to enjoy this night. Maybe a little _too_ much.

A dinner had come and gone; Amélie, Gérard, and Genji had disappeared somewhere along the way. Only Jesse and Hanzo were left, finishing off the rest of an expensive wine bottle that wasn't worth wasting. 

A pleasant buzz was going through Jesse from something a little bit different than the alcohol. Someone he had hated for a month had suddenly become something... else. Someone that Jesse realized he wouldn't mind getting to know.

Hanzo pinched the bridge of his nose, and Jesse eyes travelled to it. "Why'd you get it?" he asked, unable to help himself.

The man sitting next to him bit his lip softly, dark eyes staring at a spot on the table. "What answer do you want? A sober or intoxicated one?"

Jesse raised his eyebrows slightly. "Intoxicated, I guess... cause, well, y' are."

Hanzo's eyes met Jesse, and he suddenly realized how close the man really was. Close enough to nearly feel his breath, so that if Jesse moved forward any more, they would collide. Jesse moved his gaze to Hanzo's lips, glancing up only as Hanzo practically dragged his tongue through them.

Was this what this feeling was? The annoyance and hatred covering up... attraction? Jesse felt his face heat in embarrassment, yet it was somewhat nice.

"I got it to pick up hot guys," Hanzo said, his voice barely a whisper. The restaurant around him was quiet, guests going home for the night. It was nearly just him and Hanzo. 

Jesse's eyes flicked back down to Hanzo's lips and, without realizing, leaned forward more. He could feel Hanzo's breath on his skin, count each and every eyelash that the man had. The world around them didn't exist, everything so confusing was finally locking into place-

A lound ringing sound from somewhere in the outside world broke the two apart before they even came together.

"Shit, I'm sorry," Jesse muttered as Hanzo pulled away, his face painted an outrageous shade of red. The agent started to gather his things, and the detecive felt a pang in his chest.

Jesse dug his phone out of his pocket, eyes widening and grabbing Hanzo by the wrist as he stood up. The FBI agent made no effort to pull away, only furrowing his eyebrows and sporting a concerned look as the man grabbing him paled.

The voice on the end of the line sent a shiver down Jesse's spine. It was almost a hiss, digging into Jesse's mind even over a phone.

_"Hello, Jesse McCree. I see that you and your partner have taken a special interest in me. So, I propose that we play a little game. If you decline, people will die. If you lose, people will die. I suggest that you take this seriously, otherwise you will be responsible for countless deaths. You will be a murderer._

_"You have twenty-four hours to answer. Choose wisely."_

A faint click, an obnoxious ringing, and the line went dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i wrote a plan for this fic, actually the first time i've done that?? anyways, shit is gonna go down. i have it all planned out, but there's two parts that i have two options for...... they're all evil tho. again, this is heavily inspired by bbc's sherlock, if that gives you any hints. we're gon have "the great game" type of situation going on. and possibly a reichenbach fall if i'm feeling evil...... ;)
> 
> i know i said these eps were gonna be named after x files eps but i changed my mind, they're named after my favorite crime tv shows now. today's is sherlock


	3. Mr. Monk and the Red-Headed Stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m sorry this took me two months to get out!! i have a lot of stuff i’m juggling, along with 4 multi-chapter fics (bad idea.) i can’t make any promises, but i’ll try to get chapters out sooner. thanks for sticking around <3
> 
> oOH BOY OH BOY ARE YOU GUYS READY FOR SOME BONDING??
> 
> alecjb.tumblr.com  
> ko-fi.com/alecjbi

Hanzo's blood went cold when the detective next to him grabbed his arm with an uncharacteristic pallor and terror in his always-calm eyes. 

It had been a mistake to invite Jesse to dinner in the first place. The outing had been a chance to tell the detective how he felt- one orchestrated by Amélie after Hanzo had foolishy confided in her. The FBI agent had no way of knowing if Jesse reciprocated his own feelings. Hanzo had been distant, trying to dismiss what he could only describe as a middle-school crush. Jesse had said from the beginning that he was not happy working with him- why should he try?

Yet when Hanzo had leaned in- on impulse, no less- when he could count every one of Jesse's eyelashes, see the freckles that usually hid behind a pair of reading glasses, he had a feeling that the feeling was mutual. The minute that damn phone rang, Hanzo's courage had run dry and the moment was over.

And now Jesse was gripping his arm for dear life, panic evident all over his face about something entirely different than a missed attempt of a kiss.

Jesse's eyes bore into him more than usual, his mouth falling open slightly as Hanzo could pick out a loud buzzing sound coming out of the phone. His hand dropped from his head, device clattering on the table. The agent quickly sat back down, gripping Jesse's hand in his.

"What is wrong? What happened?" Hanzo asked, squeezing Jesse's hands in an attempt to be comforting. The detective lifted his head, brown eyes darting around before settling on Hanzo.

"I shouldn't be scared, I've been trained to not be shaken up by this," he said, his voice shaky and nearly a whisper. Hanzo couldn't help but note that his eyes shot up to a security camera next to them. Jesse took a deep breath and started rambling, giving Hanzo a glance at an entirely different side of this detective.

He was _scared._

Hanzo forced himself to listen, wanting nothing but to focus on the way Jesse's eyebrows came together, how his hands fluttered around him as he explained. Yet, he listened, becoming more and more concerned with each word. 

"It's probably just a sick joke, right?" Jesse said, placing his head in his hands. "One of my officers fuckin' with us?"

Hanzo thought for a moment, wishing only to go back to Jesse's office when all he had to do was look through files. "I don't know," he explained, looking as Jesse turned to him with an expression somewhere between fear and annoyance. Hanzo nearly smiled. "If they are truly serious, we have to say yes. We will have a chance at saving many people. If it's a joke and we say yes, nothing will happen."

"So we should call back."

Hanzo sighed and nodded. "I need to sober up first," he muttered, smiling slightly as Jesse exhaled out of his nose. The two stood up, Hanzo pulling out his phone to call a taxi.

The two climbed into the backseat of one of the hundreds of taxis that decorated the Chicago streets. Hanzo watched as Jesse stared wistfully out the window. His breath fogged up the glass and Jesse dragged his finger around, making scribbles and smiling sadly as if he were imagining later days.

That must’ve been the reason Hanzo was attracted to him. There was no denying that Jesse was attractive, but he was also cute. He did little things that Hanzo’s ever-attentive mind lached onto and refused to let go. It was the way that Jesse popped the caps off his markers on the floor and then spent ten minutes looking for it. It was the way that he would leave a strand of hair out when he pulled it out because “it looks cool”. It was the way that he would whistle tunes he made up while grabbing a cup of coffee. 

Immediately knowing that Jesse would not be another one-night stand like the ones Hanzo had back in Japan, he put every guard he had up. It wasn’t exactly hard, it was something he had grown accustomed to. Between a missing mother, an abusive father, and Hanzo’s inability to let anyone besides his brother love him, it was easy.

Yet, with a little bit of alcohol and a large lack of judgement, all those barriers had fallen down. The sight of Jesse’s chocolate eyes staring at Hanzo’s lips was enough to stop the detective from thinking. It was foolish to think that it could’ve been something more. Jesse must’ve just had a similar lapse in judgement, being stupid and mistaking something for attraction. Who would want to love Hanzo anyways? Any thought of something else was simply foolish-

“Hey, Hanzo?” Jesse said, snapping Hanzo out of his reverie. He said the other’s name as if he were afraid to call Hanzo something so casual. The agent nodded but Jesse didn’t seem to be any more comfortable. “Hanzo, maybe we should talk about what happened before the phone rang...”

Hanzo suddenly felt as if he were going to throw up and looked out his own window. “Nothing happened.” Hanzo was aware how short and final his words were, but did nothing to stop it. He figured that Jesse would be used to it by now, yet he could not help but to feel guilty as Jesse’s reflection frowned.

”Are y’ sure? Because I know-“

”I don’t wish to talk about it, Jesse.” The name felt foreign on his tongue. Perhaps it was because of the habit of calling him “Detective” or maybe it was because of Hanzo’s formal nature, but the detective doubted he had ever uttered McCree’s first name. 

Jesse seemed to be affected by Hanzo using his name in retaliation, as he frowned and stared back out the window. 

“Where are we goin’ anyways?” Jesse asked after the car had been filled with only the sound of the city. “The department is only a few blocks away.”

”My apartment. I need to check on Genji to make sure he’s not passed out in the hallway again.” The darkness collecting in Hanzo’s chest lightened slightly as Jesse snorted. “He doesn’t handle his alcohol well.” 

“I could tell by the way he offered t’ take his arm off to show me how it worked.” Jesse smiled slightly as he looked out the window. A slight pause and: “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Hanzo blinked. “How could you tell?”

Jesse shrugged. “Just... knew. Y’ don’t talk like you’re from around here. You’ve got an accent and you’re too damn formal to be from Chicago.” Hanzo grinned. “Plus y’ called it ‘my apartment’. This place isn’t home to you.”

Hanzo’s hand subconsciously gravitated to the Japan pin on his jacket. “I suppose there’s a good reason you’re a detective.”

Jesse laughed, and Hanzo swore that it lit up the entire taxi. “I take it you’re from Japan?”

The FBI agent glanced down at his jacket. “Yes. Hanamura, to be exact.”

”Never heard of it.”

Hanzo hummed, gazing out the window and imagining the dark streets of Chicago melting into the sidewalks of Hanamura, the light falling from streetlights turning into pink cherry blossoms. Instead of driving to his apartment, he would be walking back to the castle with Genji after going to the only arcade within miles and the best ramen shop in all of Japan.

”It’s in the northern parts of Japan, quite a small town. I lived in the castle at the top of the hill, my brother and I could see the entire town from our bedrooms.” 

Jesse frowned. “Then why’d y’ leave?”

Hanzo sighed and ran a hand through the shaved part of his hair. The sensation was calming- and Hanzo was lucky that it was, as the detective was not sure if he could answer Jesse’s question without some sort of comfort. “Things... things just weren’t good at home. If you knew what went on in that castle, Jesse... it’s worse than any homicide you’ll see here.”

Hanzo’s left hand lay on the seat between them, and somewhere along the way, Jesse had grabbed it. He squeezed lightly as Hanzo went on, staring at his feet and words struggling to come out.

Yet, somehow, Jesse’s hand grasping his, silently promising it would all be okay, made everything better. 

“So, my brother and I escaped. Five years ago. Our father was furious, I fear he’s still searching for us. I don’t worry about myself, just for Genji... it’s bad enough that he has two limbs left. I can’t let something else happen to him. 

“Anyways, we escaped.” Hanzo changed the subject as he felt tears prickling behind his eyes. “We moved to Chicago, I went to the academy and Genji took up a job in engineering. He’s always been interested in how things work.” Hanzo smiled at the thought of his brother. “He never really liked Japan but... I miss it. It was home, no matter how horrible it could be. It was the ramen shop on the corner and the tea that my mother bought fresh every Sunday and the sunrises when you went up on the roof to watch them.

”So, Genji bought me this pin at an airport,” he said, motioning to the pin located directly above his heart. “He’s bought most of these pins, actually.”

Jesse let go of Hanzo’s hand (unfortunately) and leaned over to see the pins that decorated most of the space on Hanzo’s jacket. After looking for a moment with furrowed eyebrows, he decisively exclaimed, “Yeah. I know what like... two of those are.”

Hanzo laughed, delighted in the smile that Jesse returned.  “So... what’s that one?” he asked, pointing to a pin with dragons positioned next to the Japan flag.

”My family insignia,” Hanzo explained, looking fondly at Jesse examining the pin. “They’re two dragons-“

”Those are dragons?”

Hanzo smiled widely. “Yes, Jesse, those are dragons. Our family believes that we each have a dragon that watches over us. I’m not exactly sure if I believe it, but it reminds me of home. Genji made this one himself, actually.”

Jesse’s mouth formed into an “o” before raising his eyebrows and frowning in an impressed fashion. “Okay, what about... this one?”

It was a Rikimaru pin. “I won it at a ramen shop in Hanamura with Genji. Well, actually Genji won it, but I stole it from him.”

Jesse chuckled softly. “Okay... this one?” he said, pointing to a pin with three triangles near Hanzo’s right shoulder. This earned a confused and hurt expression from the latter.

”You’ve never heard of Legend of Zelda?” he said, looking at a dumbfounded Jesse who merely shrugged. “What the hell?”

Jesse shook his head. “Han, if this is some obscure reference we’re talkin’ about...”

Hanzo opened his mouth in shock which earned a laugh from the other. “No, it’s one of the largest Nintendo series!”

”It’s a game?”

Hanzo buried his head in his hands. “Jesse McCree, I swear to God...”

”Well, I’m sorry, I thought these were all jus’ reminders of home or somethin’ with emotional value!”

”No, I just really like Legend of Zelda, Genji and I will get drunk and play Majora’s Mask on weekends!”

Jesse snorted and the two dissolved into laughter until they arrived at Hanzo’s apartment. Hanzo paid the taxi driver more than he should’ve due to their obnoxious laughing. He stumbled up the stairs, still clutching his stomach as Jesse burst into another somewhat-drunken laughing fit.

When Hanzo had finally managed to unlock the door, the walked into the living room to find Genji sitting on the couch with a huge bottle of water.

”Hey,” he said, saluting with two fingers to the two men above him. “What’s Jesse doing here?”

Hanzo glanced behind his shoulder at Jesse, who was quite obviously trying not to pry and look at everything in their tiny apartment. “Something came up during dinner, we have work to do.” The reminder of work made Hanzo frown harshly.

”Mhm, sure,” Genji said, slowly taking a sip of water. “Yeah, it’s for that and totally not for sex.”

Hanzo blushed and tore his gaze away from Jesse. “Genji!”

Genji shrugged, his sleeves slipping down to reveal a metal arm. “Just telling it as I see it.”

”Why I didn’t leave you in Japan, I’ll never know,” Hanzo said as he walked into the kitchen, Jesse chuckling behind him.

”Well, then I’ll just stop paying rent!” he said, a hint of laughter in his voice. “Hey, but seriously, drink some water while you’re in there. If you’re doing work you should sober up, and it’ll help in the morning. You two drank a lot more than I did.”

Jesse nodded. “He’s right.”

”Plus, if you’re both sober then it’s consensual.”

”Genji!”

* * *

_“Ay, dios mio...”_ Jesse said, rubbing his hands over his face. _“Esto es muy estúpido. Y peligroso.”_

Hanzo blinked. It must’ve been sometime after two. The two detectives had been arguing over theories and thinking what exactly what to say to their mystery caller. They’d made calls to the bureau and an angry Assistant Director Gabriel Reyes who met them at Hanzo’s office. 

Hanzo sat in his chair while Jesse leaned back in the one across from him, clutching his umpteenth cup of coffee. After tracking the phone number (registered to no one, probably sitting in the middle of the Chicago River) and recounting the call to Reyes for the twentieth time, the Assistant Director had told them to call back. Jesse had been stalling ever since.

Apparently that involved slipping into Spanish.

”Jesse,” Hanzo said, tilting his head in confusion. “You’re speaking in Spanish. I do not understand Spanish.”

Jesse snorted then sighed. “Sorry, I get messed up when I’m tired. Grew up speakin’ Spanish, guess I never really grew outta it.” 

Hanzo yawned. He saw the thousanth way that Jesse was trying to stall calling back, yet chose instead to indulge in this one. Over the month that Hanzo had been working with Jesse, seeing him everyday, he had not learned much about the detective. “Tell me more.”

Hanzo swore he could see the glint in Jesse’s eyes and the way the corners of his mouth perked slightly. “‘M from Santa Fe. My abuela raised me, she refused to speak English unless someone didn’t understand Spanish. Spoke it until my abuela died and I moved up here.”

”You don’t have an accent.”

Jesse shrugged. “It faded. Been livin’ here since I was seventeen. Made it easier, too, if I spoke with less of an accent. People understood me an’ treated me better. Only person I speak Spanish with is Reyes,” he jerked his head towards the door that Gabriel had once stood in, “but I slip into it when my mind is messed up. Like now.”

Hanzo’s hardly-functioning mind halted completely. “You know Reyes?”

The detective laughed. “Yeah, guess I forgot t’ mention that. He’s a family friend, used t’ come over every Sunday for dinner. Suggested I move up here, as well.”

Hanzo huffed. “I would think that he would be kinder to you.”

”Nah, he’s a dick t’ everyone he sees.” Jesse smiled and tipped his chair forward, reaching for the phone that sat directly in between them. He held it, waving it and forming his mouth into a line. “Guess we better call it to make ‘im happy.”

Despite his training and all the emotional blocks he had put up, Hanzo felt something rise in his chest. Something dark, a pit in his stomach and burning in his lungs. “Jesse, are you sure? We haven’t-“

”I’m sure, Han.” The pet name shattered any objections Hanzo had to the matter. “We have twenty-four hours. Might as well get it over with.”

Hanzo sighed, wanting nothing more to hold Jesse and protect them from the hell they were no doubt going to go through. Yet, they had both signed up for this.

This had been coming for a long time. It had started from the moment that Jesse stepped on the nonstop plane from LA to Chicago, from the moment that Hanzo took his little brother’s hand and told him to run. Somehow, Jesse and Hanzo had been drawn together. And this was bound to happen.

Jesse pressed the button on the table to record and called.

The click indicating that the call had been answered rung through the quiet room before the phone even rang. Hanzo could immediately understand why Jesse was nervous.

The man’s voice dug into Hanzo’s mind. It was as sharp as the blade of the swords that were once displayed proudly in the Shimada home. Jesse met Hanzo’s eyes with the same expression he had seen earlier that night. 

Fear.

It was not quite as pronounced, yet it was there, hiding behind Jesse’s pupils, living in the slight part of Jesse’s lips. And Hanzo had a feeling that the same expression was painted on his own face. So much so that it took Hanzo a moment to register what the person on the other line was saying.

”-and hello, Hanzo. I see that you’ve decided to join in on this fun game we are about to play.” The man had a hint of laughter in his voice and Hanzo’s heart raced. “You’d better have a good eye on the schools near you, since I have a feeling.... _something_ might just happen. It would be quite a tragedy. Stay tuned, ladies and gentlemen, because we’re about to have some fun.”

The line went dead and Jesse leaned forward to stop the recorder. The ghost of the same terrified expression lay across his face. He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, his voice and hands shaking slightly. Hanzo wanted nothing more than to gather the detective in a hug and protect him from all that was about to happen.

Yet, it was bound to happen. It all came with the fine print in their contracts, the unwritten rules weaved into their professions.

A storm was coming, and Hanzo wasn’t sure that they would be able to find shelter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hanzo’s jacket is based off mine! [here’s](https://alecjb.tumblr.com/post/167719159850/i-have-a-lot-of-pins-and-i-dont-know-what-my-next) a picture, i have a shit ton of pins
> 
> today's chapter title is from monk! a huge part of my childhood was this show, it sparked my love for mystery. i also think it subconsciously helped me accept it when i found out i had OCD, since i had grown up with a- albeit exaggerated- figure with it. i saw it on the hallmark channel this summer and almost started crying watching it, i hadn't watched it in probably 5 years. i’m actually watching it as i’m writing these notes lol


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